Why does she move like that?

I’m sitting alone at my table, eating a quiet brunch. The terrific noise of people in the lunchroom used to bother me, but not anymore. Slowly I have grown immune to their useless hubub and mindless chatter.

But then I see her. My hands become a little sweaty as my mouth goes dry (never understood that hidden link..). She is moving slowly around the circular salad buffet, no doubt constructing a healthy meal to ease her calorie-ridden conscience. There is a gentle sway in her motions..a subtle grace to her step..as though she hosts a secret dance within her heart.

Why am I transfixed? My eyes stare where I bid them not. My thoughts roam to places I forbid. More than an inner struggle–my body becomes the shell for World War III. Hands trembling to bring food to my mouth, mouth refusing to accept the food, knees quivering slightly with embarrassment, eyes refusing to leave her perfect form, heart drawn like a magnet while the sane section of my mind is hopelessly attempting to bring about a reformation.

Not until she leaves the buffet and walks..no GLIDES to her seat across the building does my body once again submit to my control. Frustrated and confused..I trashed the food and left. Why would I feed such a rebellious creature?


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